The Wheels of Fate
by Fred Squirrel
Summary: Reincarnation, the Soul Recyclation , a new start at life. It was a wonderful thing of new being, new chances and utter dreams that would never die- that is if you wanted it. And if you didn't? Well the Gods always did have a sense of humor and unfortunately you have been chosen as Fate's new toy. Sorry, no refunds allowed.
1. Chapter 1

_**Life was never easy, but no one ever said it would be.**_

 _ **The challenges and constant fights are what made it so exciting in his opinion.**_

 _ **Though it was always good to know when one lost the fight. It saved them a lot of pain and humiliation.**_

 _ **Dying was easy.**_

 _ **Like falling asleep really after a quick brief moment of pain.**_

 _ **He didn't want to die, but sometimes you just didn't get what you wanted.**_

 _ **He wasn't sure what he expected when he closed his eyes for that final time- A white pearly gate? The burning pits of Hell? Nothing but darkness?- but he could honestly say he sure as hell didn't expect to open them again.**_

 _ **Life was difficult.**_

 _ **Dying was easy.**_

 _ **Getting a retry with a brand new life and slate...Well throw someone else under that bus, will you?**_

* * *

Buck Rockgut was never considered a simple Penguin. He had been born and breed to follow in his Father's footsteps as an Agent, something he had done with a sense of pride.

HIs perfect little word had been laid out perfectly for him, filled with black and white scenarios at every turn. Everything had been planned to a T with no wasted motions or actions.

Of course that had all changed when he had first meet a Red Squirrel, who for once- represented what he know knew to be -a darker shade of grey. He was a dilemma to the Agent who's world had been so stereotyped:

One moment a villain like he was labeled doing disastrous deeds as to be expected but the next you would find him doing things that didn't quiet add up; Playing with children, Planting trees, saving his life once.

He was different, neither the black and white; Good and Evil, the American had been taught. Instead he seemed Chaotic.

It had drawl him in like a moth to the flame.

Then came the Spy that followed his new obsession.

Like the squirrel this emerald eyed penguin didn't fit in his stereotype view. He was a lighter shade of grey compared to the squirrel but a shade of grey none the less. He was complicated:

He fought the squirrel like he supposed to but there was something in the way they fought that spoke volumes. And how quick he could turn on anyone else who tried to go after the Russian, including Rockgut.

They had pulled off his rose tinted glasses, forcing the American to realize things weren't quite what they seemed.

His perfect little life wasn't so perfect and rather dull.

Orders that had once made sense now seemed questionable when he looked at them.

Corruption ran further through their Agency then anyone could have suspected. Unfortunately when you looked too close there was always consequences which came in the lives of his team- the only reason he had been spared then was because no one had expected him to be the one doing the investigation.

After that, the rouge eyed penguin would admit he had sort of lost it, bit by bit.

Paranoia.

 _They're all involved. They all knew._

Schizophrenia.

 _They're following me, waiting for me to slip up. I need to get out of here._

Obsession.

 _Squirrel. Red Squirrel._

Looking back on it now, Buck could plainly see where he had finally lost it. He had allowed his mind to get the best of him and went Rouge before anyone could pick up the signs and stop him.

Oh but how free he had felt during those years- even when hiding underground. Nothing could touch him that, let alone harm him.

Not even when he ran about searching for Red in obviously fake places, the Spy's nephew had made up.

Of course all good things must come to an end. It was a rather abrupt ending but it was kind of suiting in its own way.

Shame he dragged the other two in it with him but at least the corruption had been dealt with.

Closing his eyes, Buck Rockgut had allowed himself to let go of his failing grip on life.

He allowed his book to finally close.

Or so he thought.

* * *

 _ **Reincarnation, the Soul Recyclation , a new start at life.**_

 _ **It was a wonderful thing of new being, new chances and utter dreams that would never die- that is if you wanted it.**_

 _ **And if you didn't?**_

 _ **Well the Gods always did have a sense of humor and unfortunately you have been chosen as Fate's new toy.**_

 _ **Sorry, no refunds allowed.**_

* * *

 _He allowed his book to finally close._

 _Or so he thought._

Darkness.

That was all Buck Rockgut was aware of in the beginning. A never ending abyss that swallowed him whole.

Really he wasn't all that surprised at the lack of pearly gates or fiery pits considering his life. If appeared neither Heaven or Hell wanted him.

So this must be his fate.

An enteral damnation of floating about in the darkness with no hope of ever escaping with only his memories and thoughts to keep him company.

Really it wasn't that bad- if he was being optimistic- he could think of worse places to be.

He wasn't sure how long he floated about it before he heard it.

"Its time! It's time! It's Time!"

The panicking voice broke through the darkness.

 _Time?_

"What do I do?!"

Glancing around with a sense of confusion- for the first time in what seemed like decades- the rouge eyed penguin tried to figure out exactly where in the void it was coming from.

"James, Calm down!"

A sharp woman's voice cut through the darkness along with a sound that suspiciously resembled that of someone being slapped. As he- rather confusedly- watched the darkness seemed to close in on him and the voices grew louder.

 _What the Hell was going on here?!_

* * *

 _His eyes!_

God the light was blinding, especially after so long in he darkness. Closing his eyes rather quickly the Penguin tried to raise his flippers to block out the light only to come short as he fount they wouldn't raise all that much.

Feeling himself being picked up the Agent's eyes shot open only to be blinded by a rather scratchy towel rubbing at this.

 _What type of Hell was this?_

After a brief futile moment of trying to struggle away from the rag, it finally stopped and instead the Penguin fount himself wrapped tightly in a bundle of fluffiness before being handed off to someone.

"He's beautiful."

A woman's soft voice spoke up before a man chuckled. Following the voice the Penguin fount himself staring at two humans, one with hair like fire and the other's as black as night.

"Well he is Ours. What else is to be expected?"

 _Ours?_

 _Wait a moment...Was this...No...It couldn't be..._

Except the facts didn't lie:

The darkness.

The voices.

The hospital smell and the nurses still in the room.

Feeling rather sick, the American(?)- was he still American? They had an accent like the Nancy Cat's- forced himself not to throw up as a new memory fount its way into the _'Things That Traumatized Me For Life'_ file. He was diffidently going to require therapy for this.


	2. Chapter 2

The first sixteen months of Buck Rockgut's, or as he was now named Harry Potter, new life was utterly miserable.

First of all, he was no longer a Majestic Penguin but rather another of the millions of humans.

Next had came the so called 'Dark Lord' who had murdered both his parents in cold blood before trying and failing- Seriously? You can't kill an infant yet to call yourself a Dark Lord?- to kill him. Instead of killing him though the emerald green light the shade of the Nancy Cat's eyes had backfired and somehow blew up the so called Dark Lord, the only effects it really had on him was the lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

Then had came a Colorblind old man- seriously? Neon Orange with Neon Pink Ducks? Where in the world did this man get his clothes?- who had jumped the gun and claimed he defeated this 'Voldemort'.

Him?

Yeah right, all he did was sit there. The man blew himself up- and he would testify that in any court involving the Murder Charge- thank you very much.

Finally the colorblind fool had him checked on- apparently having eyes the color of blood was a bad sign- before bumping him on a doorstep of his only living 'relatives'- in the middle of November- with only his thin blanket and a letter before leaving him there.

Now a toddler Harry Potter may have just sat there, sleeping obvious to the world, but Buck Rockgut would not.

The moment he was certain everyone was gone the small child pushed himself to his feet before waddling away from the door with his thin blanket in hand.

If he recalled correctly Red should have a base just outside of Little Whinging that he could use.

* * *

Ronald Billius Weasley was the six son of Molly and Author Weasely.

Named Billius after his elder brother; Bill there was nothing quite remarkable about this child. He was easily and often forgotten amongst his family, especially after his sister; Ginevra Molly Weasely was born.

He was never given a second glance in a crowd though maybe if someone had looked closer they would have noticed something a bit off about the child.

His hair was a darker red then the rest of his family's and his eyes the color of gold. They were far too hard, too intelligent for a child his age and with the few times he did speak it was with the underline tone of someone far older then a six year old boy.

No one even noticed the day he left home to fly his broom and didn't return until almost two weeks- when the commotion of having a girl- had finally died down and Bill Weasley came to visit.

By then though the searches for the boy would be futile. Theories would rang far and wide to the fate of the child from Kidnappings to leaving out of jealously.

If the boy had only been Ronald Weasely they may have been right but he wasn't and elsewhere the boy once known as The Red Squirrel slowly made his way towards an old base of his just outside of Little Whinging, Surrey.

* * *

Draco Abraxas Malfoy was a quite observant child with hair white as snow and eyes the shade of the Killing Curse itself.

The shade of his eyes had been the cause of some commotion and rumors for years yet every spell and potion would should the boy was truly the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Yet despite being their son -and very much loved- Draco as nothing like his parents, most who meet the six year old would describe him as a charming Lad who somehow knew just have to smooth over an issue.

Draco had always seemed pleasantly happy with his family so it came as a harsh shock to many when the polite, well manner boy was annoyance missing only days after the Weasley boy's disappearance. Seeing as no wards had been set off and the Lad hadn't been spotted leaving Malfoy Manor a high suspicion of Snatchers and child kidnappers began to spread throughout the Wizarding World.

Though truthfully none of those were true. The young Draco Malfoy had left on his own with a pack thrown on his back hours before daylight.

And the fact he had managed to avoid setting off the Wards and being spotted?

Well, what else could one expect from a former spy?

As for why he left:

He couldn't very well allow his arch nemesis to get ahead of him, now could he?

* * *

Whoever invented Reincarnation was a bastard.

You would think after dying one would be left alone to enjoy their eternal salvation or suffer enteral damnation but no. Some messed up deity out there had decided to just screw with him and have him recycled as a human.

One may say it was karma coming back to bite him for all he had done in his past life but Red was quite certain karma had already bitten him for that from the moment she allowed the American and Spy into his life till the day he died.

Right there was the issue.

Red had died and he had openly accepting it and whatever hell was waiting for him on the other side though instead of eternal damnation-like he had expected- he had gotten this

He was human.

He had both eyes- and didn't that just feel messed up.

He still felt hatred for humankind, even if he was now part of it.

He was lacking his tail- he would be finding out how to get that back ASAP.

And he was pretty certain Draco Malfoy was Nigel which meant Rockgut was probably out there somewhere.

God Damn it, he wanted a refund.

* * *

The base was exactly where Buck recalled it to be though the place was covered in what had to be two inches of dust- when was the last time this place was in use?

Choosing to ignore it for now- he could clean up later- the rouge eyed child made his way to a where he knew the MREs would be stored. He had just started to feast upon a package of mashed potatoes and finely diced meats- what? He still didn't have all his teeth yet- when he heard the door to the base being unlocked.

* * *

There was someone in his base.

A child, probably around his age if he judge the footprints in the dust- he really needed to clean up this place- right. Lowering his small bag onto the floor the rouge haired boy allowed his eyes to move across the room.

Nothing really seemed out of place...

Expect for that.

Slowly the small child made his way towards the table in a corner which held an open MRE with recently made mash potatoes and a finely shredded gravy patty.

Seeing as the food was still warm there was a high chance the intruder was still inside the base.

Narrowing his eyes, the rouge listened for anything that could possibly be out of place only to come up with nothing.

* * *

There was something familiar about the boy slowly moving about the room.

The way he stood, the way he walked, it just screamed as the former American that he knew this person and knew them well.

It wasn't until he had tackled the smaller- fully intending to fight for his current home- did he finally catch a good look at the other's face, more specifically those glaring golden eyes.

"Red?"

The violently struggling rouge haired child underneath him still as those golden eyes bore into him before recognition finally settled into them.

"Rockgut. "


	3. Chapter 3

"You're Harry Potter?"

Pausing mid bite the American- was Rockgut still an American? He sounded British- glanced at him.

"You know who I am?"

A soft snort left the rouge as he took a sip of his once powered milk- it was utterly disgusting but beggers can't be chosers- before answering with a hint of amusement to his tone.

"Understatemant of the year Rockgut. Everyone in the Wizarding World knows who their 'Saviour' is. "

"Saviour?"

The golden eyed boy couldn't quite hide his amusement at the clear disbelief that shone in the taller's eyes.

"Appearently killing a man makes you a Hero here."

Funny, he once killed someone doing something like this in his past life and everyone had thrown a fit while mourning the bastard yet this 'Harry Potter' Kills someone and everyone celebrates. Wizards, no common sense between the lot of them.

"I didn't kill anyone. The guy blew himself up."

Strangely enough Red could actually see that happening. Rockgut just didn't seem like the type of toddler any parent - let alone a responsible one like his was said to be- would give a wand or grenade to.

He doubted wizards even knew what a grenade was.

"Of course he did."

"So what are you doing here?"

The taller of the two asked with a mouth full of potatoes causing the smaller to wince.

"Swallow before you speak. And in case you've forgotten this is **my** base Rockgut. I believe the better question to be why you are here."

"I was left on a doorstep by a color blind man."

Color blind man?

The only person Red knew who remotely fitted that description was Dumbledore and the man had a perfect sense of vision but a rather horrid taste of fashion.

Dumbledore left the 'Savior'- he was swearing up and down he was protecting- on a doorstep? Red had always figured the man was senile from his brief visits but this just proved it.

* * *

Red was just as Rockgut remembered him to be.

"Have you seen the Nancy Cat?"

If he and Red was here there was a high possibility that Nigel was out there somewhere as well.

An amused look crossed the younger's face as he glanced to the wall mounted clock.

"You'll know soon enough but for now, help me move this matrass."

Cryptic, likely withholding information, and one step ahead of the rest of them. Good to known some things never changed.

* * *

God damn door, always got stuck on him.

With an annoyed grunt the emerald eyed boy pressed him back against the artificial door disguised as a large oak tree's bark while digging his feet into the earth. He had always informed the Russian they should get a new door or check the wiring for this one but the younger never listened.

As the feel of harsh bark disappeared the white haired child only had a moment to give out a cry of surprise before he was tumbling down the entrance tunnel with a pained noise every time he managed to hit the harsh, unforgiving steel. Thankfully he reached the bottom rather quickly and braced himself for the harsh flooring as he was spat out.

"Oomph," the grunted noise left him as the emerald eyed child hit...

A mattress?

"How did you-"

A young male voice began to ask before another amused one cut it off.

"He does this every time he visits."

Rolling onto his back the once spy fount himself staring into the young and childish faces of his two lifelong companions before giving the rouge hair boy a scandalized look.

"If you would fix the door..."

"There is nothing wrong with my door."

The smallest of the three cut in defensively before the two descended into their annual argument. Neither quite noticing the smiling raven haired boy watching them with a fond gleam to his blood colored eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

_**~Four and a half years later~**_

"Excuse me Sir. You dropped this."

Good Gods above, they were utterly hopeless.

Pinching the bridge of his nose the six year old golden eyed child watched his emerald eyed counterpart return the wallet he had just pickpocketed from a man.

God Damn It.

Those flightless birds...err...humans- God he still wasn't used to this- were probably the worst pickpockets the rouge haired villain ever had the pleasure of meeting.

For one what type of pickpocket returned the goods?

Secondly, who in their sane minds- _then again, it was Rockgut_...- shouted _ **'Diversion'**_ while trying to distract someone?

Next time he would have to leave these two Nimrods at home as it was painfully obvious they weren't quite cut out for this- personally Red blamed their Moral Code.

"So.. How'd we do?"

That is, if he didn't kill them first...

* * *

After their rather...Troubling failure, it was decided to leave the underhand income to Red though Nigel couldn't find it within himself to be that upset about it. Every time he had tried to take a wallet all he could find himself thinking about was the families he was stealing from.

Did they have children?

Were they the type of Household that relied on each income to support theirselves?

Bills?

Food?

He just wasn't cut out for it. It was one thing to steal for his occupation but just to be stealing- even if it was for their own income- was a completely different issue.

He couldn't do it and Rockgut wasn't exactly Subtitle...Which left the rouge as their only real option- thankfully Red didn't seem to have any moral or physical issues with it. If anything the golden eyed boy was all too pleased to have them out of his way.

* * *

Winter was harsh, though Red could honestly say he had gone through worse. Though the winter probally would have been easier if he just overlooked this little issue. Or maybe if he had told anyone else about his plans instead of shooting down all attempts on the behalf of his constant annoyances.

Still he was a _'bloody russain bastard'_ -according to the spy- and therefore as a _'Bloody Russian Bastard'_ he did what he wanted when he wanted. Even if what he wanted was to drag a fucking tree through a blizzard in the middle of the night. Or to decorate said fucking tree and put damn wrapped boxes underneath it while the damn Nancy Cat and American slept.

And Nyet, he was not doing it for those bastards. He was just celebrating a holiday and they happened to be there. Of course he knew Christmas was in January but he was just celebrating a bit early.

It was just a coincidence all said brightly wrapped boxes were for the American and Nancy Cat. A complete and total coincidence nothing more nothing less.

Now to get started on dinner so that it would be ready in time.

* * *

For many Christmas was a time of celebration, family, hopes and dreams. It was a time for laughter and joy, but not for him.

As Buck Rockgut he had never had the time for such celebrations. His Father believed it a waste of time and he never quite grasped the concept of friends. There had only been Allies, Acquaintances, and Enemies.

As Harry Potter he had a lovely family but he somehow managed to sleep through the majority of the holiday. And now as a run away living on odd jobs and a Russian's thievery Christmas really didn't seem like an option.

They couldn't currently afford a tree and presents, let alone a feast.

So it was quite a surprise for the man turned child when he had dragged himself into the main center room of the base only to find a medium size tree sitting in the corner of the room surrounded by brightly colored boxes with a table covered in food nearby.

For a brief moment crimson eyes had stared in open disbelief as their owner slowly made his way closer to the table all the while silently pondered where the hell had all this come from and better yet how had it been moved into the area without him waking?

Maybe the Nancy Cat was behind it? The Spy was rather quiet when he wished to be. Who's to say the emerald eyed man... err child couldn't manage to somehow drag a tree past his room without waking him?

Yes, it had to be the Nancy Cat's work. He was the only person here sentimental enough to consider let alone do such a thing.

"What the- How...When? Bloody Hell. "

And there went that theory.

But then if it wasn't the Nancy Cat...

And I wasn't him then...

Nah, it was impossible.

He celebrated Christmas in January and he sure as hell wasn't sentimental enough to do this...

There was no way in Heaven or Hell that Mad Russian could or would be behind this...

Right?

* * *

He was never, _ **NEVER** _ doing another nice thing for these two bastards again.

All he wanted was sleep and maybe a steaming cup of coffee but no, those ingrates had to drag him out of his warm comfortable bed and shove a god damn cup of tea in his hands. Who the Fuck wanted tea? Unless they had some good ol' fashioned Russian water to go with it then it sure as hell wasn't him.

Why was he still here, swaying slightly on this god damn couch watching those bastards? He already knew what was in every box and he had cooked dinner. He didn't need to do this.

He needed- no wanted- some goddamn sleep... Hhmm, maybe they wouldn't notice if he closed his eyes for a moment?

"There's no presents for you."

The rouge couldn't help but scoff slightly at Nigel's words. Of course there wasn't, no one ever bought- or stole- for theirselves on Christmas. Let alone a Christmas that wasn't their's.

And who really cared if he didn't get anything? He didn't have sentimental ties to possessions besides his suit and eyepatch... And maybe a small photo album he kept inside a hidden pocket within his suit... Everything else was hilariously easy to abandon on a moments notice.

So honestly he couldn't quite see why his spy was so upset or why the American kept giving him that damn pitiful look.


	5. Chapter 5

Life was rough.

Buck Rockgut had learned that the hard way the first time- a second time around wasn't any easier but at least he didn't have to worry about a certain Mad Russian and a 'doesn't know when to quit' British Spy causing chaos every time he took a breathe- this time that is.

The rouge was too busy ensuring they had a steady surplus of finances while the emerald eyed brit was growing his own garden now. It wasn't much but it would help in the long run. He had tried to help the both but long complex calculations and gentle patients had never been his forte.

Both had apparently had enough of his _help_ and decided to place him in charge of the one thing he did know:

Training regiments.

It was ridiculously sad how weak their bodies where compared to their old ones. Something all three agreed needed to be changed as soon as possible least they become just another faceless victim to societies reign.

Still if they wanted any serious training done they would need some proper equipment- ones the rouge wouldn't be taking apart for scrap the moment his back was turned.

He'd have to make a _'shopping list'_ for said rouge later but for now they would have to make due with what he had managed to save from being disassembled.

* * *

This base had never been meant for long term living, especially not for three children.

Two of which seemed to break everything they touched.

A scowl fount its usual home of the rouge's face as he continued to rewire an old project. Usually he wouldn't have bothered. There was no telling how long this thing had been there but this specific project would be a great aid if he could get it working again with some slight modifications.

Now what does this useful deceives does?

Simple, it was an age modification device through it could also produce solid holograms. It wasn't the fanciest thing the Russian had built. Hell it looked just like a regular Rotary Watch-Red made a mental note to upgrade the next model he built- making the wire ever so delicate.

Something which didn't to seep into the two Nimrod's skulls. They where lucky he was used to idiotic personal invading his best and all but clinging to him or the devices would have been scrap by now.

* * *

He was going to kill that bastard.

Nigel couldn't stop the grow that left him as he glared into the mirror.

For all instances and purposes he had expected to see an older version of himself but instead...

The rouge had apparently developed a sense of humor:

Silky white hair cut pixie short, emerald green doe like eyes hidden behind long lashes, thin white brows and soft pale skin, a delicate bone structure. Then there was That, a heavy weight that sat upon his chest:

Breasts...

For a brief moment a horrifying thought entered the Spy's conscious and not a second later he had a hand shoved down his pants in a frantic search.

Oh God, where was it?!

Pale skin blenched furthered as the emerald eyed incarnate failed to find his special piece before spinning on the amused rouge watching him from a distance.

"What the Hell did you do with my penis?!"

An owlish look appeared on the rouge's face as he blink in a child like innocence.

"You mean you actually had one?"

"Wha- I," The elder of the two could feel her face burn with justified rage as emerald eyes glowed in indignation, "Of course I had one you Bastard! And I know you knew it seeing how much time you spent in my bed!"

A smirk stretched across the youngers face, "That was a Life Time ago, Nigel- Literally. All I saw was a pretty little girl dressing up in her brother's stolen clothes."

"You walked in on me when I was shower just this morning!"

"Preciously meaning I would know if you had one- and you didn't."

The righteous scream of fury was music to Red's ears.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been a while since Red could honestly say he pulled off an heist, so maybe that was why he was currently sitting in his room surrounded by papers detailing the blueprints, gaurds shift, security systems, ventilation system and every other fine detail he could locate.

He wasn't planning to take much but what he intended to take would be enough to get them out of the country- a necessary Nigel likely wouldn't be happy with- once he rouge got around to telling him- but they couldn't stay any longer with the Ministry, Dumble's Order and Death Eaters out on the prowl for the famous and now knowingly missing: Harry Potter.

They needed to leave England and preferably yesterday but then rose of the question of where to go and when actually he should inform the other two of the need to leave. Of course he would have told them sooner but...

Well they never would approve of his self appointed mission, Espically if they knew he planned to steal intel from a top security military base to sell.

At best they would start a fight and then ingore his existance.

At worse... Well They would start a fight, demand he return the intel then all but vanish into thin air- leaving all three of them vurnable with no way out of country and higher chance of Rockgut being fount, taken back and Oblivated or Killed- depending on who fount him first.

It was best they never knew. Which left the whole heist and every detail of planning and eventually the Break-In/Theft itself onto his own shoulders and his alone...

A soft sigh left the rouge, the things he did for _His_ Agents.

Black Markets weren't for the weak of heart.

The rouge pushes his way through the crowd making sure no wondering hands manage to find their way into his pockets. Thieves where common around here and were fully capable of stealing the clothes off your back without you even noticing if one wasn't cautious. He pays the slavery no mind as he pushes his way past a man attempting to persuade him into buying a naked child. The rouge is a lot of things but he wasn't the sort to dirty children.

There are other vendors and merchants who attempt to sell what they believe to be a grown rouge haired man their services but Red ignores them all. He's here for one thing and one thing only. Once he acquires that the Russian does not plan to stick around.

The deal goes rather well, there are not attempts against his being or to underpay him. The Russian blames his looks. Mr. Red while a very private person had been well known in this field to his clients. If he's honest, the rouge is half disappointed they didn't try anything but five hundred grand for a flash drive would place anyone within a good mood. The cuff of tight around his wrist as the rouge keeps his grip even tighter on the suitcase's handle while slipping through the crowds once more. Once he's out of here, he plans to check the money and place it within a book bag before dumping the case in a river- never could be too careful in this line of work.

Red leaves without any major issues. All the while never noticing a matching pair of sharp golden eyes watching him.

* * *

Though he wants to know, the rouge eyed boy doesn't permit himself to question where the Russian incarnate got the money from. It doesn't really matter and he's probably better of not knowing- possible denial and all that.

The Nancy Cat on the other hand tries to demand answers but all the rouge will say is _'I didn't steal it, if that's what you're worried about'._ If he's honest, Buck finds it rather amusing how the other gets around the truth so easily without telling a lie. While he may not have stole the money but the once American was willing to bet the younger had stolen something of high value to acquire this much.

Still it doesn't matter.

They needed the money and now they had it, no matter what immoral sin the rouge committed to acquire it. Its why he placed their youngest in charge of finances, Red was a natural born prodigy- not even this twisted reincarnation had changed that- and would do whatever was required without having to worry about his conscious nagging him about it later.

Nigel was the Russian's conscious. While he hadn't been a saint himself- far from it actually- the white haired spy had a bit more morals. Even in a new life it would appear he was still trying to drill a few into their stubborn Nemesis...

Their oldest would probably have better luck getting the so called Dark Lord- in which he still would not admit to killing. The fool did it himself- to wear pink and start a candy factory while informing anyone who would listen about his undying love for all the Non-Magicals of the world.

* * *

If Nigel's honest, its not the money but how he's certain the rouge acquired it.

Red had a bad habit of acquiring military secrets and selling them upon the black market. It was recklessly foolish. What if he had gotten caught?

What if the watch had malfunctioned?

What if someone who once knew the rouge had saw him?

They would be screwed. Those who knew them knew they where dead. Yet the rouge entered the Black Market anyway looking like a twenty year old Mr. Red. He still looked like the handsome business man. What was he thinking?

Had he been thinking?

The younger usually pull a stunt this foolish, this utterly reckless. Hell if Nigel was honest this was the sort of thing he expected more from the American then the Russian- and why the hell was Rockgut just permitting this to slide?!

Sighing softly, the once spy attempted to rein in his worry. Red was here now. Safe and sound within the bunker. A bunker only he, Red and Rockgut knew about. They where safe. For now at least. He would keep an eye and ear open least word of a supposedly dead Enemy Number One began to start-up.

* * *

While the elder's nagging is amusing its also a bit agitating.

Despite what the other may think, Red's not an idiot. He knew going out as Mr. Red had a chance of stirring trouble but it was worth it. He knew Mr. Red- it was hard not knowing yourself- he knew how to act, how to walk, run and fight within that body.

He didn't have to worry about re-adjusting himself to sudden or lack of mass, height or even strength. A new body took time to adjust to, time to relearn everything from the basics onwards.

Time they didn't have.

So he made a choice. It turned out well enough. He was here, safe and sound with the money they needed. The chances of anyone from his past life having seen him was microscopic.

* * *

 _Elsewhere a man with silver hair and golden eyes paced within his darkness of his personal lab._

 _Though he looked to be in his forties the man was much older, a product of another generation long forgotten by the foolish youth of today. Yet despite that, h_ _is eyes where as sharp as they've always been, something not even time could rob him of._

 _No matter what anyone else would say, he knew what he saw._

 _He knew his son no matter what form he took or how much younger the other appeared._

 _He wasn't dead._

 _There was no body ever fount._

 _'Incinerated within the flames.'_

 _No grave ever dug._

 _'What would I put in it? They couldn't even find that monsterity of an eye.'_

 _No tomestone for remembrance._

 _Who wanted to remember a nightmare after all?_

 _He's not dead._

 _Not Dead._

 _For the first time in years, laughter slipped through the man's lips._

 _"Victor?"_

 _He didn't hear his lover come down but the elder did notice the worry in those stormy eyes. Yet he just couldn't stop his rather maniac sounding laughter as he tightly gripped the once-penguin spy's shoulders causing the watch on the golden eyed man's wrist to become visible as the fabric of his sleeve slid slightly._

 _"He's not dead."_

 _Just lost._

* * *

"Achoo!"

"Excuse you/Bless you."

Who could possibly be taking about him now?


End file.
